Apron String Heart

I pulled into our driveway in my cyber green Beetle.  A tiny voice in the back seat asked.... "Momma, are you going to make me move out when I turn 18 like you did Sissy?"  A little piece of my heart broke as I explained to my 8 year old that mommy didn't make Sissy move away, rather she grew up and wanted to go to college..... "Well I'm never going to college, I want to stay here with you and daddy." I knew he was struggling with his sister's absence; with 11 years difference between them, she had been a mother figure to him, letting him sleep with her so "Bubba couldn't smother him in his sleep" like he teased him of doing. His teacher had told me he was struggling emotionally with her move. She said he came to school every day and told her exactly how many days left until he would see his Sissy again; kind of like a child whose father goes off to war. He was most comfortable when the entire family was safe and accounted for each evening before he went to bed. If they weren't, he would inquire as to the exact time they were expected back.... "I just rest better when everyone is home." he would tell me. I poked my head in his bedroom the other night to tell him dinner was ready. He sat on the love seat holding his game

controller, his girlfriend sat beside him. His face is a gingerbread brown from working his summer job, but it is the same face that stared thoughtfully out the car window when I picked him up from daycare all those years ago. His bedroom walls that had been covered with band posters and teenage mementos, has been stripped bare. Boxes and packing supplies are stacked in the living room, waiting to be filled. In a couple of weeks, all his worldly possessions will fill a U-Haul and spirit him away to the City to begin his adult (or almost adult life). I think on some level, I thought he never would grow up and

leave momma and daddy, but the pulling force of independence and the opportunity to live close to his siblings is stronger than this mom's apron strings. I'm still not sure I've recovered from having his sister and brother leave, and now I'm preparing yet again, to set the child I've nurtured and loved, loose in a cruel world that doesn't have his best interest at heart. "I've done it before." I tell myself.... "I can do it again." But part of me wants to chain him to the past and never let him go as the other part of me fumbles with the knot of my apron string heart.

A Stolen Slice of Pi

As usual the other night, I was playing the damsel in distress with my husband because the wireless Internet needed to be re-set. The pizza dude had just delivered our pizza and we were settling down to watch Downton Abbey on the computer when I realized the wireless was more less than it was wire. So I asked him to re-set it, then I started feeling guilty about always asking him to do it (It's just that I'm not good with wires and stuff), and decided to go up and learn to break I mean do it myself. When we came back into the den our Mastiff was just sitting in the middle of the den like she was waiting for the show to begin. Mike took one look at his plate and noticed he had one slice of pizza less than he did when he went up
stairs. We both turned to look at her, but she sat there just as expressionless as only a dog can look. She wasn't licking her chops or drooling shoe strings out the side of her mouth. Then he examined the edge of his plate for the tale-tale of slobber that usually accompanies her eating and drinking. Sure enough, she was tidy, but not tidy enough, there was just a smidgen of slime on the edge of his plate. It was obvious by looking at her and the plate, she hadn't even bothered to chew (or there would have been shoe strings). She must have gently grabbed a piece that was slightly hanging off the edge of the plate and swallowed it whole. She slunk out of the room as he scolded her in his best "Mad Daddy" voice. I just snickered in the background because it was so sly and stealthy and she totally held the poker face until the scolding began. Who can blame a gal for a single slice of pi? He was just lucky that's all she got.

Guilt Trip to Nowhere

My Motto

Being a parent isn't easy. Those cute little bundles of love do not come with instruction manuals tied to their toes and just when you think you've got it figured out, some psychologist comes out with the newest and greatest book debunking all of the parenting methods you've been using. That's why I rarely read parenting books, it was  confusing. After talking to other women, I'm happy to know that I'm not the only one who thinks so. You would think that after the kids are grown and gone you could ease up a little on yourself, but I'm finding out that isn't the way parenting works. Adult children are like the gift that keeps on giving... In the guilt trip department. You finally think you can see light at the end of the parenting tunnel where you can sleep peacefully at night knowing you did your best, then they come up with how your parenting methods were all wrong. Everything you did was unhealthy, harmful, hurtful, or just politically incorrect... As if we didn't know we weren't perfect to begin with. I've done it to my mom, my kids have done it me and my friends kids have done it to them. Everyone has a laundry list of things we wish we would have done differently, times we wish we would have had more patience, and opportunities we missed to impart valuable wisdom instead of freaking out like a mob boss. But life is a trial and error situation with no do-overs and that's why God made psychologist and shrinks (and possibly Prozac) and warns against older women be given to too much wine... Your kids can drive you to drink! (LOL) Seriously, if you went to a psychologist without a mind blowing mother story, you'd be immediately admitted to the psych ward until you remembered the esteem shattering thing she did to turn you into the dark and twisty being you are today. Dads rarely get the bad rap moms do. A friend of mine used to laugh at me when I would tell her my mother/daughter stories.... And then she had one herself. A little part of her thought I exaggerated the drama until her daughter got old enough to walk and talk. Exactly why do moms get all of the attitude? We get the dirty diapers, the spit up, the attitude and then the "You should of's" while good ole dads plays dumb and gets a pass. You know why dads get a pass? It's because men don't do guilt trips. You can send a woman on a guilt trip because the Dairy Queen got your order wrong, but a man isn't going to go there. If a grown kid went to their dad with the idea of sending him on a guilt trip, the man would give them the famous blank look, leaving the child no satisfaction at all. A mother on the other hand will pack her bags, buy her own plane ticket to guilt trip island, never to return again, or until one of her girlfriends comes by to slap some sense
into her and demand she snap out of it and put her granny panties on. Guilt is  something most women naturally believe we deserve for some reasons (probably because of our moms). A therapist I know puts it this way... Okay, so (insert esteem shattering event here) happened when you were a child, now you're an adult and you're the one responsible for your attitude and the direction your life is going... Whatcha gonna do about it?

The greatest line of all Simpson episodes was this.....

Marge: I'm tired of looking like the world's worst mother.

Homer: Oh, honey, you're not the world's worst mother. What about that freezer lady in Georgia?

Story of my life.

Cords of Love

Jenny and her friends

This weekend my friend hosted a Tea for her daughter and her two closest friends and their moms. She asked if I would decorate for it. There are fewer things that I enjoy more than preparing for special occasion for someone I love. The theme I selected was "The Key to Success". I made banners with wisdom quotes and scriptures. I made a wisdom tree and adorned it with skeleton keys and wisdom tags. The tablecloth was an unfinished quilt top that
has a special meaning to me. I got to use my e mis-matched china for the first time. I put candles on the mantel, pictures on the hearth with skeleton key chatskis laying around. It wasn't anything fancy and it wasn't anything anyone else couldn't do, but I enjoyed it so much because it was for someone so special to me. Another friend of ours gave a devotion called "Living in a Small Town". It was a precious reminder that although living in a small town has it's down side, the benefits
far outweigh the negative. Our families have been knitted together with cords of love that cannot be broken and
everyone has benefited in countless ways from these relationships. Like ripples in a pond, each drop of love you allow to fall on others, will be returned to you tenfold. My heart is full of pride to see Jenny grow into everything God created her to be and I'll be on the sidelines every step of the way cheering her on as she continues her journey.

Good Day

Today we packed up our baby boy and his girlfriend and headed to OCCC to enroll him. We talked a little on the way, but mostly they listened to music with their ear buds. My oldest son met us at the school. After initial hugs and kisses the three of them walked to the main building as we lagged behind. The three of them were suddenly very chatty, talking about classes and stuff. I looked over at my husband and said.... "We just don't speak their language." He put his arm around me and assured me.... "It's just that they're young." Well.... I'm not sure what he meant by that... I'm young... I may not be 18 or 26, but I'm young. I could tell his girlfriend was a little nervous so I stayed with her while he went for testing. Finally, after doing this and that and that and this he came back with a small smile, sat down and showed us his ID card. It really happened. He is actually enrolled in college for fall. As we walked back to the car I told my oldest... "I can't believe my baby just enrolled in college." He said... "It's good mom, don't cry." "I'm not crying" I said. He laughed and said... "Oh, I thought I saw a little tear." I don't know what he was talking about. I was right as rain. My daughter met us at my son's apartment downtown and we walked to the arts festival, ate lunch and meandered down Thunder Ally. The kids walked and talked and laughed, seemingly glad to all be together. When my youngest was a wee one, and his brother and sister still lived at home, he used to ask me each night as I tucked into bed, when Bubba and Sissy would be home. I would explain to him where each of them were, what they were doing and when I expected them home. One time I asked him why he asked each night and he said.... "I just rest better when everyone is together." The last several years, he hasn't had much rest. My daughter is in the Navy and has been from hither to yon for years, while my oldest son spent several years doing mission work in different places. Watching them walk and talk made me feel like they were all where they should be... Together. On the way home, I looked at my husband and said.... "It's been a good day." He smiled and agreed. The chicks may not all be in the nest, but at least they will soon be in the same city together.... So everyone can rest better.

The Strangled Sob Behind a Poker Face

I was a weepy mess last week for no particular reason at all and I'm not much better today. I know all good things much end, and yes I suppose new adventures are just a breath away, but gosh, being a mom is hard. Several months ago, my youngest sat on our couch and with absolute resolve and made it perfectly clear that he WAS NOT going to college. He did it in almost a temper tantrum kind of way... Well I say that, but actually no voices were raised or harsh words spoken, it's just that he was adamant that he would not go to college regardless of how we felt. The conversation left me baffled and confused. Although the subject of college had been discussed between his siblings and him, we had never broached the subject with him, nor him with us (yes, I'm sure that's bad parenting 101).

Early last week he gently knocked on my bedroom door as I was reading. He came into the room looking at his phone and in teenage mumble/murmuring speak, told me that he was going to Oklahoma City next week to enroll in OCCC. He said he had already sent his transcript in and just needed to sign up for classes. Much like the haircut, I tried my best to "Act Nach" and not torpedo him with the million questions inquiring mothers like to ask, so I simply said.... "Okay, is that something you would like dad and I to go with you to do?" I tread the waters very lightly with him because frankly, he doesn't quite know how to take me and I don't quite know how to take him which is a complete 180 compared to my older children. His teenage years have been a learning process for me that darn near required psychic abilities I do not possess... Psycho abilities yes, psychic abilities no. He shrugged his shoulder and said (in teenage mumble/murmuring speak) "Well, like sure, if y'all like want to go, that would be fine.... I guess."  Quickly my mind translated the message in "Uniquely Patterson" speak and determined the answer was... "Sure, I'd love for you to go." or at least I think that's the translation as I would like it to be. The idea that my youngest was actually going to leave, hit me in the stomach like a boxers upper cut. Parenting is a series of letting go. I absolutely don't want my children living their lives

around my wants, wishes or needs, but that doesn't make letting go easy or painless. I remember when each one of them were just learning to walk. After a fall on their padded diapered bottoms, they would look to me to assess if I thought they were hurt. The way I responded to the fall had much more significance than the actual fall itself.  They were more likely to burst into tears when I rushed to their aid as if something was wrong than they were when I simply smiled and encouraged them to get up, assuring them they were okay. The changes and paths they take in life as adults aren't much different.  When they come to me with decisions to make, or questions I don't have the answer for, I wish I did have psychic abilities or a crystal ball to direct them in the absolute perfect direction. As a mom without all the answers, all I can do is to let them know I support them 100% regardless of the choices they make.  I try to keep a sense of calm about me even when I desperately want to tuck them under my wing and never let them go. Watching their world unfold before my very eyes is both exciting and scary... A tiny part of me would like to fold it back up and start all over again.... Without the rookie mistakes I made as a young parent. The sound you hear as I watch them fly farther, higher and stronger from the nest is nothing short of a strangled sob hidden behind a loving smile and a very good poker face.